


It's Alright (If It Makes You Feel Alive)

by 1Diamondinthesun



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Louis, Domestic!Larry, Fluff, Humor, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, One Direction Tours, Porn With Plot, Top Harry, Where We Are Tour, and Louis in yoga pants, and bananas are high in potassium, because the world would be a better place, so eat all you want Harry, with Larry feels onstage, you banana eating tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1753641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1Diamondinthesun/pseuds/1Diamondinthesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has their breaking point. Harry just didn't expect his to be here, at Wembley stadium, with a banana in his pocket.</p><p>(In which Harry tells jokes and Louis wears some very special pants. Featuring headbands, anonymous underwear, and an OT5 puppy pile.)</p><p>PLEASE DO NOT POST THIS STORY ON OTHER SITES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. OR AT ALL. Posting someone else's work without their knowledge and/or permission is plagiarism, and that's not cool. If you like a fic, reblog the link on tumblr. Don't steal it. I have too much free time on my hands, and I will find you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “Hey, babe,” Louis said, leaning against the kitchen doorway with a familiar glint in his eyes.  
> Harry took in what Louis was—and wasn’t—wearing, hardly believing his eyes. Louis crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes, slowly looking Harry up and down. Harry knew that look.  
> Louis’ gaze flickered back up to Harry’s eyes, before he asked coyly, “Tea?” and turned slowly on his heel. Louis’ hips swayed as he padded into the kitchen, leveling Harry with a knowing look over his shoulder. Holy hell, was he wearing…? It was worse than he thought.  
> Harry was fucked.

London, 6 June 2014

Harry Styles had seen a lot of strange things thrown on stage before in his time in One Direction. Posters, flowers, iPhones, that one memorable walkie-talkie that Niall was still talking about in interviews; and then there was the underwear, he mused against the roar of the crowd and flashing lights onstage. Panties of all styles and colors, some with names and phone numbers written on the tag in permanent marker, and don’t get him started about the bras. Harry reckoned he had had more bras flung at or on him than Mick Jagger. And he was like. Legend. No matter where they went, whatever city they were performing, Harry was like a damned bra magnet. To be fair, all the lads got things thrown on stage, but Zayn never picked them up, Niall and Liam were as like to trip over them as not, and Louis had been banned from touching all iPhones since that time he caught one and chatted with some girl’s mum onstage, fans laughing hysterically and Paul shaking his head tiredly in the background.

That night in London the crowd was as wild as ever, and there had been plenty of things to land on the stage. Earlier Niall had made a beeline for what looked like a can of Pringles, but Zayn had intercepted and thrown them over his head to Liam, who promptly chucked them off to the side. Niall’s jaw dropped in shock, to the amusement of the audience, and then he shrugged it off with a bright smile. Currently there were all kinds of flower crowns and gifts littering the stage, and of course a few bras. Harry wondered, not for the first time while the band played the opening notes to “C’mon C’mon” whether the girls wore an extra bra to the show so they still had one when they threw the other onstage, or if they just went braless for the rest of the night. He worried that they might get cold without them. Could girls catch cold without their bras? He would have to ask Lou, she would know. It was funny that Harry was always the target of underwear projectiles, and the rest of the lads _still_ got a kick out of it. As far as Harry was concerned, though, there was only one person he wanted to see in pretty lingerie. Someone with soft curves and the best arse in the world, although it was a little slimmer these days.

Harry looked out across the sea of faces and the enormous stage before settling on the face he loved best. To his right, laughing with an arm slung around Liam, was Louis. Harry could see his bright smile and crinkly eyes from here, and he couldn’t help but smile. Harry had once tweeted those Bruno Mars lyrics as a sappy joke, but it couldn’t be more true: _when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for a while._ Harry had posted the tweet, then texted Louis with a dopey grin, … _cos you’re amazing just the way you are <3 <3 xxxxxxx _

Harry watched as Louis began poking Liam and trying to slap his hat off, little shit that he was. The audience ate it up. When Zayn started the first verse of the song, Harry spared Louis one more fond glance and got back to business.

It was several songs and a round of Instagram questions later that Harry saw it. He was standing on the ramp when he saw something sail through the air in his peripheral vision, and for a moment he worried another fan was launching herself onto the stage like in America last year. But when he turned fully to investigate, the burly security only spared it a passing glance before facing forward. Harry watched the item, which looked to be some kind of bundle, roll a bit further before stopping several feet away. Curiosity piqued, he (carefully) loped down the ramp to get a closer look.

It was black fabric, rolled up and tied with—was that a _headband_?—Harry wondered in awe. The fans had really latched on to his new look, he mused, absently straightening the headscarf wound through his curls. Around him, the boys were bantering about Niall’s charity match in Ireland and trying out for the FIFA World Cup. Liam, Zayn and Niall were standing together, and Louis was bending to get his bottle of water. Harry looked around, scanning the faces in the front row for the guilty party. But all he saw were fans dancing and waving their iPhones like usual. Harry picked up the mystery object carefully, wary it secretly had a bra rolled up in it—he’d seen the gifs of him looking horrified holding a yellow bra a couple weeks back, and Louis had ribbed him about it for days, didn’t want a repeat of that, _thanks_ —only to find some sort of t shirt or blanket rolled up with a scrap of paper with ~ _Louis~_ printed in loopy script tucked underneath the elastic headband. Probably another Larry t shirt or something. It was almost time for the break, so Harry shrugged and carried it to the edge of the stage by his own bottle of water. Then he jogged to join the lads in time to receive a cheer for his famous penalty shot, and then they launched into their last song before the break, random gifts forgotten.

In the end it wasn’t Harry, but some industrious stage tech that delivered the mystery gift to Louis during the break. Harry had been chatting with Liam about the change in the set list on his way offstage and forgotten all about it. So when they were all changing in one loud, chaotic room backstage, his assistant brought the present in and wordlessly dropped it onto the table currently piled with cards and various other gifts from the meet and greet before the show.

Typically they only changed shirts, since they didn’t have a lot of time, so Harry had pulled off his jumper and was debating between a couple of identical long-sleeve shirts when he spotted the item sitting on the pile.

“Hey, Lou!” he called, grabbing one of the shirts at random and wading through the pile of shoes, discarded clothes, and junk on the floor. Harry reached for the bundle and pulled back as if to throw it.

When Louis turned around, still bare-chested and covered in a light sheen of sweat, gloriously beautiful as always, Harry faltered. God, he wanted to lick the sweat off his abs and biceps right there in the changing room of Wembley stadium. Louis raised his eyebrows expectantly, an amused smile on his face like he knew what Harry was thinking. Harry quickly shook out of his Louis trance (it was a thing, ok) and tossed it to Louis.

“No idea,” Harry shrugged at Louis’ confused frown, then pulled the white shirt over his head, still mindful of his headscarf. He turned to grab a banana from the catering table and Louis watched fondly before examining the item in his hands.

Louis scanned the item Harry had just thrown him, saw the tag with his name written in girly print, and rolled his eyes. Of course Harry would do something elaborate like that and then grab—was that a _second banana_?—nonchalantly like he wasn’t up to something. Louis pulled his own fresh shirt off the rack beside him and yanked it on impatiently. This reminded him of the time in Spain Harry had sauntered over backstage twirling a pair of lacy blue panties he’d picked up and winking lasciviously, dimples on full display. There was no way Louis was going to put anonymous knickers on his arse, but when they got back to London on their next break he’d picked up a couple pair at the shops and surprised Harry at home. Harry had come home from hanging out at Ed’s, smelling of beer with ink-stained fingertips and his guitar case slung over his back to find Louis propped against the doorway of their bedroom wearing nothing but light blue boy shorts. Once he’d picked his jaw up off the floor, Harry had undressed quicker than he’d ever moved in his life, giant feet tangling in his skinny jeans as he hopped around their bedroom like a giraffe on roller skates. God, Louis must be arse over teakettle for this moron.

He rolled his eyes and unwound the elastic headband as he heard a tech give them a two minute warning. Inside the bundle, he was surprised to find not another fan-made t shirt, but a pair of black pants.

Were those…yoga pants?

Louis examined the simple black stretch pants. They had a fold-over waist with what looked to be pink rhinestones in the shape of little wings emblazoned on the back. The trademark Victoria’s Secret tag inside revealed they were brand new. Clearly they were ladies pants, and would make his arse and thighs look enormous. It was no secret Harry was obsessed with his arse, so he wasn’t that surprised he had bought him these. Certainly wasn’t the weirdest gift Harry had given him. They still had a drawer at home containing a nearly-threadbare grey t shirt that says Harry <3 Louis that he may occasionally wear when Harry’s away, shut _UP_ , it’s not cute.

He seriously thought about putting the pants on for the rest of the show to see Harry’s reaction, it would serve the little shit right, but it wasn’t worth the headache from management—and there was no time. The tech was hovering in the doorway with a clipboard, waiting to escort them back onstage. Louis sighed and quickly folded the pants into his and Harry’s bag before following Zayn out the door. He’d just have to wait until they got back home to ask Harry why he felt compelled to gift him ladies’ exercise pants. A quick glance over his shoulder found Harry behind him, cramming a banana in his mouth. When Louis caught his eye, Harry broke out into a grin and waved dopily, eyes sparkling. He made a thumbs up gesture and took an extra big bite of his banana, obscene little fucker that he was, before jogging to the other side of the stage. Just before Louis grabbed his mic and went onstage, he swore he saw Harry put the other banana in his pocket. _The jokes practically wrote themselves_. Louis went onstage with a smile that didn’t stop until they were taking a bow at the end of the show. Sue him, he might be a little bit in love.

*

By the time the show was over and a car was taking Harry home (Louis following in another car, going a different route to their house to throw off the paps), he was feeling a little flustered. He had gotten a stern talking to from Steven from management for his antics _(“Not just eating things onstage, now you’re stuffing them in your damned trousers? Where is this behavior coming from?_ ”) so he could only imagine what they had said to Louis. Harry couldn’t help it; he was feeling so… _restricted_ and repressed lately, could barely look at Louis on stage without someone in a suit breathing down his neck and the internet simultaneously announcing their engagement. By now the lectures about appearances and declining record sales had worn him down. The fans were feeling it too; it was all over twitter and the gossip sites Niall read religiously. There were rumors about a breakup and in-fighting between the band, and while they did bicker like your average 20-somethings (more like little old ladies), nothing could be farther from the truth. But the powers that be insisted that one false move would throw their careers into an irreparable tailspin.

And they’d been walking on eggshells for months. The pressure did strange things to them. Liam finally got an Instagram and surprised everyone when it was really genuinely good. Niall had thrown himself into planning the football match and writing songs. Louis and Zayn had leaked the infamous pot video as a big _fuck you_ to their management.

When Harry felt cornered, his mischievous side came out.

So when he put a banana in the pocket of his skinny jeans at the break, he wanted to give the fans something, _anything_ to show they were still _them_. He couldn’t talk to or so much as look at Louis onstage, and they were under strict orders to behave after the weed debacle, but this he could do. Let the fans and Larry shippers and tumblr girls take this and run with it. Let the gif go down in history. He didn’t care if it was at his own expense. The best part of it was, it was so _Harry_ —like a bad pun and terrible innuendo all rolled up into one.

What he hadn’t expected was for _Louis_ of all people to take the bait.

Harry should have known, he realized as he let his head thump back against the car seat with the lights of London fading in the rearview, the moment Louis had pointedly avoided looking at him while the fans and the rest of the lads giggled at the bright yellow banana sticking ridiculously out his trouser pocket. But he was caught up in the thrill of the moment, memorizing Liam’s wide-eyed stare and the way Niall collapsed into giggles against Zayn, who’d simply given him a smirk of approval. Harry had shrugged and turned big, innocent eyes on the crowd as thousands of camera flashes went off.

“What? Have I got something on my face?” he’d asked, looking from the hysterical fans to the boys. Liam dropped his head in his hands and laughed until his shoulders shook, but _Niall_. Niall had tears streaming down his face, laughing so hard no actual sound was coming out anymore. Even Zayn chuckled and cast a knowing glance at Louis, who had made a big show of fiddling with his mic and chatting with the band, his back to the entire scene.

When Louis pointedly turned around, assessing the wild crowd and the situation unfolding with faux-surprise, Harry should have known. Instead he had smiled casually at Louis, sending the crowd into hysterics. There was a dangerous glint in Louis’ eye for a millisecond, then his features smoothed over into a curious expression.

He strolled closer to Harry at the front of the stage, head tilted in curiosity. “Why Harold,” he’d said, and the roar of the crowd at that alone almost drowned him out.

“Is that a banana in your pocket?” he’d asked, a wicked glint in his eye.

Harry could practically hear the screams of protest backstage, the barrage of lectures tomorrow, _whatever_ , but in that moment, he didn’t care. And unless he was very mistaken, neither did the fans. Were they doing this? Louis raised his eyebrows in challenge. Well then.

Harry shrugged coyly, smile blooming on his face. “Maybe I’m just happy to see you.”

Louis’ answering smile was blinding, the boys’ groans behind him priceless. Josh tapped out a _ba-DUM-shhh_ on the drums and cymbal. When Louis finally laughed, he threw his head back and just let it out. Harry flashed back to another tour, in smaller venues, with a younger, more carefree Louis and kisses on the tour bus and their whole lives ahead of them. When Louis laughed like this, with _Harry_ , without worrying about the fallout or record sales.

Louis giggled in delight, clutching his (now tiny) belly. Harry couldn’t keep the fond grin off his face as he chuckled sheepishly. It was quite possible he was falling in love all over again.

He heard a thump behind him, and the audience shrieked with laughter, and Harry turned to see Niall had fallen down laughing. In the process, he appeared to have taken Liam with him. Liam was sprawled out spread-eagle and laughing, snapback discarded beside him, looking such a far cry from the serious boy he’d met at boot camp. Zayn pointed and laughed at the boys on the ground.

Louis caught Harry’s eye, a familiar twinkle in those bright blues he hadn’t seen onstage in years, and Harry nodded minutely. Louis sprang into action, then, tackling Zayn down onto the pile. The crowd went absolutely wild.

Harry turned to face them, now, shrugging as if to say, _should I?_ Their answering screams echoed through the venue. With that, Harry walked over to the pile of laughing, shoving boys and dropped down right on top.

Four bodies groaned and wriggled under the added weight, and Harry just stretched out and sighed. This was more like it. He made a show of getting comfortable while the boys laughed and cursed. Behind him, the band started playing—was that “Hollaback Girl”?!—and Harry absolutely lost it. He felt clever, familiar little fingers digging into his sides to tickle, recognized Louis’ cologne, and laughed until he was gasping for breath.

Eventually, he was able to help the others up in time for them to sing, all five dusting off their trousers and limping exaggeratedly as the music played on to the fans’ delight. Niall was the first to recover, chanting enthusiastically:

_A few times I’ve been around that track_

_So it’s not just gonna happen like that_

_Cause I ain’t no hollaback girl_

_I ain’t no hollaback girl_

Liam slung an arm around Harry’s shoulders and they began to sway playfully; on his other side Niall was jumping and clapping to the song. He could see Louis and Zayn thrusting and moving their hips in exaggerated circles. It felt like 2011 One Direction, and Harry couldn’t believe this was happening…because of a fucking banana.

Niall led the crowd through _This shit is bananas! B-A-N-A-N-A-S_ and Harry pulled the slightly squished fruit out of his pocket. If this was the end of their careers, he thought peeling the banana and looking around at his gleeful bandmates, then what a way to go. It wasn’t holding hands with Louis onstage, or kissing him for the world to see, but it was enough. He caught Louis’ eye as he took a bite, and the crowd went wild.

*

Now Harry sighed as he watched the landscape fly by in the car home. He had just worked up the nerve to turn his phone off, dreading the fallout tomorrow, when a text notification dinged.

It was from his mother.

Harry gulped as he swiped the screen unlocked and read:

_Saw the show tonight_

_Yeah?_ He texted back, biting his lip. When her reply didn’t come immediately, the dread coiled tight in his stomach. What if…

The new text dinged in the dark, interrupting his panic.

_I’ve missed that smile. I’m so proud of you love. All my love to Louis xx_

Harry let out a sigh of relief and let his eyes close for a moment. At least he had his mum.

 _Will do, love you too we’ll call soon xx_ he replied, still in a daze. If only everyone reacted this way, he might make it to 25 without going grey. The fans, the skeptics, management, the other lads, Louis…

 _Louis_.

They hadn’t had any time to talk after they ran offstage into their group huddle, giddy with adrenaline from their antics onstage. Louis had barely had time to grab their duffle bag and kiss him quickly on the cheek before he was led to the black SUV waiting in the car park. He didn’t look mad, really; if anything, just frustrated they didn’t have more time. _Time_ , a dilemma they were all too familiar with. He thought about texting Louis, but what would he say?

Sorry for getting us in trouble again tonight? Sorry you got yelled at because of me? No; that was better said in person.

“Five minutes out,” the driver said, interrupting Harry’s morbid thoughts. He considered going on twitter to cheer himself up, but thought better of it. Instead, he spent the rest of the ride planning what he would say to Louis when he got home.

First, he would apologize for dragging Louis into another (probably heated) argument with management. Then, if he was still upset, he would unpack their bag and start the laundry while he made Louis a cup of tea. Then they would talk. They had a rule that they never went to bed angry, and in the years that they’d been together, neither had broken it. It was difficult at times when Harry was in L.A. and Louis was in London or being shipped around with Eleanor (hah, shipped! Harry was on a roll tonight), with different time zones, but they managed it. They loved each other, simply put. Harry hoped Louis remembered that when he got home…

Harry snapped out of it when he saw the downstairs lights on in their house, and realized Louis was already home.

Okay then. The car slowed to a stop and Harry thanked the driver before slowly walking to the door, heart in his throat. He found the door unlocked and walked in, preparing for the worst.

What he saw left him completely speechless.

“Hey, babe,” Louis said, leaning against the kitchen doorway with a familiar glint in his eyes.

Harry took in what Louis was—and wasn’t—wearing, hardly believing his eyes. Louis crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes, slowly looking Harry up and down. Harry knew that look.

Louis’ gaze flickered back up to Harry’s eyes, before he asked coyly, “Tea?” and turned slowly on his heel. Louis’ hips swayed as he padded into the kitchen, leveling Harry with a knowing look over his shoulder. _Holy hell, was he wearing…?_ It was worse than he thought.

Harry was fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foreplay may not be the best way to brainstorm solutions to Bananagate, as Harry would henceforth call this crisis, but it definitely couldn't hurt. (In which Harry's confused, and Louis has excellent ideas.)
> 
> “So where do we start?” Harry asked.  
> “So glad you asked, Hazza. How would you feel about a little late night meditation?” Louis asked, slowly unwinding the simple black headband wrapped around his slender wrist.  
> “For inspiration? Purely scientific purposes?” Harry asked with wicked grin.  
> “Of course, yeah. Science,” Louis said breathily, his pulse quickening in anticipation. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Harry’s jaw and dragged his mouth up to whisper in his ear, “I quite fancy some yoga, if I’m honest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a terrible person, don't look at me.

_“Hey, babe,” Louis said, leaning against the kitchen doorway with a familiar glint in his eyes._

_Harry took in what Louis was—and wasn’t—wearing, hardly believing his eyes. Louis crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes, slowly looking Harry up and down. Harry knew that look._

_Louis’ gaze flickered back up to Harry’s eyes, before he asked coyly, “Tea?” and turned slowly on his heel. Louis’ hips swayed as he padded into the kitchen, leveling Harry with a knowing look over his shoulder. Holy hell, was he wearing…? It was worse than he thought._

_Harry was fucked._

*

Louis had come home, beating Harry thanks to less traffic, with determination in his step. The adrenaline from the show that night and their antics had worn off on the drive back, leaving in its place a feeling of frustration. It wasn’t the lecture from Sam or Steve—whatever the fuck his name was, just another suit in a long line of pretentious suits—that had killed his buzz. Louis was no stranger to being the object of their wrath. He was 1000% over their shit at this point, could not care less about them. It was what the expendable suit said in closing that got to Louis. He had tuned in from absently wondering what Harry and he would have for breakfast in the morning (a valid concern because they were out of Cocoa Puffs and Harry had been on this health kick, making kale smoothies or flaxseed appear a legitimate threat) to hear the suit say:

_“…think this is going to help your case in coming out, guess again. Management will take this show of immaturity as a sign you’re nowhere near ready to be the poster children of healthy gay relationships. Was it really worth throwing that all away for a laugh?”_

And fuck. No. Anything but that. Management had just now agreed to start officially phasing Eleanor out and discussing long-term strategies for Harry and Louis’ coming out. Harry would be so disappointed. The lads would be upset as well.

In the past Louis would have caved and made the call to Simon fucking Jones himself, begging for another chance, apologizing for coming across so reckless. But they’d been down this road before, agreed to PR stunts and strategies only to be told in the end that no, it wasn’t time yet; people weren’t ready to see two boybanders in a committed homosexual relationship. And Harry would put on a brave face and curl up at Louis’ side like he was still sixteen and smaller than Louis, and Louis would be bitter and lash out on social media and no, fuck if Louis was going to keep falling for it.

They deserved better. _Harry_ deserved better.

Sweet, beautiful, ridiculous Harry, Louis mused, clicking on lights as he went through the house and unpacking their bag from that night’s show. Harry, who never complained, always reminded Louis that it was worth waiting for, that _they_ were worth it. Harry who made terrible jokes onstage and put the sparkle back in Niall’s eye, who got Liam to relax and remember how much fun their job was supposed to be; Harry who hugged with his entire body and smiled with his entire stupid face and loved so fiercely. Harry, the love of his life, who gave him…

Yoga pants.

Louis had forgotten, in the midst of planning his Game of Thrones style coup against everyone from Simon Jones down to the snooty secretary, about the weird gift that Harry had tossed to him during the break. Now it was sitting innocuously on top of their bed, in all its spandex glory.

Why the fuck was Harry giving him yoga pants? Louis was about as enthusiastic about yoga as he was about kale smoothies, or exercise of any kind. Granted, they had both benefited from Harry taking up yoga; watching Harry’s sinfully long, toned body go from down dog to plank and back, his muscles rippling and sweat beading along his hairline and pooling at the small of his back was like a religious experience for Louis. Or porn. Probably mostly porn.

Semantics.

Now Louis stared at the black pants, plain except for the pink angel’s wings on the back, and thought of a plan. Harry had bananas and terrible dad jokes, and Louis had the guts to take it to another level. With a quick glance out their bedroom window for Harry’s arrival, Louis grabbed the pants and the simple headband they were wrapped in and went to the bathroom to prepare.

*

Harry stood motionless, completely dumbstruck in their foyer trying to make sense of what he’d just seen. His mouth felt too dry and his eyes were probably popping out his head like a cartoon character. He numbly dropped his keys into the bowl by the door and toed off his boots, mind racing.

Louis must’ve been angrier than he seemed about the banana prank. Louis was probably— _definitely_ going to get him back. He knew that look Louis tossed over his shoulder just moments ago; that look had convinced him to say and do all kinds of insane things over the years. It had gotten Harry caught wearing red knickers at a concert on the Take Me Home tour; it had challenged him to shots in a seedy bar in Rio and dared Harry, veins thrumming with tequila to get _Brasil_ tattooed on his thigh in his own drunk handwriting. Harry was an expert on Louis looks, and this one promised _trouble_.

Harry took a deep breath and cautiously turned the corner into the kitchen. And honestly, he shouldn’t be surprised by now, but Louis got him every time. He was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen, standing with his back to him in their kitchen waiting for the tea to steep. Harry loved every version of Louis. He loved Louis when he was 18 and giggling on the beach, eyes sparkling like the crystal blue water; he loved Louis when he wore braces instead of bowties and showed his pretty ankles with his trousers cuffed up; he loved Louis in every footie uniform, sweat darkening the tips of his soft hair and chest heaving from exertion on the field; and he loved Louis when he traded in his preppy sailor stripes for band shirts and tank tops and _jeggings_ , Jesus. He loved his tattoos and his long hair and scruff and the way his tiny hands delicately measured out sugar for Harry’s tea with practiced ease. And god help him, he loved Louis even now, when he was anxiously waiting to be punished for his banana antics, and if that wasn’t the sexiest, weirdest thought he’d had all day, he didn’t know what was.

So Harry hovered in the doorway, feeling nervous and turned on and disoriented all at once as he took in Louis’ tousled hair, still damp from the show that night, and golden skin that he knew tasted as sweet as it looked. His eyes traced the curves of Louis’ bare back, the way the muscles flexed when Louis stretched up on tiptoe to reach the cupboard with the mugs. Then his gaze settled on the dip of his lower back, which gave way to the perfect swell of his arse. Louis was thinner these days, had lost the curvy hips and soft belly that he hated but Harry loved, but his bum was as gorgeous as ever. Especially in…

Yoga pants. His initial impression of what Louis was wearing was correct. Harry didn’t know whether to congratulate himself or bang his head against the stainless steel refrigerator in frustration because they weren’t just yoga pants.

They were _ladies’_ yoga pants.

What. The. Fuck.

Harry didn’t know where to look first. His eyes swept from the stretch of the black fabric over Louis’ arse to the tiny pink angel’s wings adorning the fold over waist that glittered in the low light of the kitchen. He took in the way the pants clung to the curve of his thighs and flared slightly at the bottom, hemline brushing Louis’ bare feet.

Harry wanted to write songs about these pants and the gorgeous, precious man that inhabited them, but he also wanted to peel them off right there in the kitchen and lick Louis out until he begged to come, and honestly that was a pretty good representation of their relationship: admiration and lust and so, so much love. It swelled in Harry’s chest and he let out an unconscious sigh at how much he loved this boy. This _man_.

At the sound, Louis smiled to himself before turning to face Harry, schooling his features into a mask of innocence.

“You said yes to tea, right love?”

Louis watched in amusement as Harry fish mouthed, eyes sweeping from his toned chest to the yoga pants to his face. There was silence in the kitchen as Harry collected his thoughts. Finally, he spoke.

“Um. Yes please,” he muttered hoarsely. Louis bit back a grin as he turned back to the counter to get Harry’s mug (green, with “Tea Rex” and a dinosaur, because Harry was a child) and then his (“Blow me, I’m hot,” because Louis was too).

Louis poured Harry’s tea and handed it to him with a wink.

“Drink up, love—you’re going to need your energy tonight.”

Harry choked on the sip of tea he had been drinking and began coughing. Louis patted him on the back as he passed and settled into a kitchen chair, folding his legs up underneath him. Oh, this was going to be fun. He just had to get Harry on board.

Harry fidgeted awkwardly before shuffling over to sit across from Louis. He was biting his bottom lip nervously. His gaze flickered uncertainly to Louis, and then he asked in a small voice,

“Lou?”

Harry looked as tentative and unsure as he did at sixteen, asking Louis if he could sleep with him one night at the X-Factor house because he couldn’t sleep. Harry had made himself sick with nerves preparing for that week’s performance, and Louis’ heart had clenched at the sight of him swaying on his feet in front of Louis’ bunk at 2 a.m. in just his boxer briefs with dark circles under his eyes. Looking back, there was no way they could’ve dreamed they’d come this far, and although these days the two had upgraded to a king-sized bed and Harry no longer fit as the little spoon (not like it stopped him, the fucker) sometimes they were the same scared teenage boys again, holding onto each other in the dark. Sometimes they looked ahead at the future and saw a million uncertainties and obstacles, but there was one thing they were always, always sure of: each other. HarryandLouis. Together. They never gave up on one another and that meant a fuckload more to Louis than breaking out at number one on the Billboard charts or performing world tours.

“Yeah, babe?” Louis replied, setting his mug on the table.

“I, um. Was wondering,” Harry began, squirming in his seat. It was times like this that always amazed Louis, who was always seen as the dominant one in the relationship. There was no question he liked being in charge in public, no question that _Harry_ got off on Louis telling him what to do and teasing him, but things changed when they were alone. Nothing thrilled Louis more than seeing Harry's eyes darken with desire and crowd him against the wall, alternately whispering filthy and sweet things in his ear as he did what he pleased with Louis. But right now, Harry needed reassurance that what he had done was okay--that _they_ were okay.

Louis covered one of Harry’s twitching hands with his own, letting the residual warmth from his cup permeate the other boy’s skin. (It was no secret that Louis liked to make people uncomfortable, ok; he glared at vapid interviewers and answered questions with questions and like Zayn teased, he _wasn’t there to make friends_ , and he had a shit list a mile long but Harry was never, ever on it. Louis couldn’t stand to see him worry a minute longer.)

Harry’s head snapped up at the contact, wide green eyes clearly confused. He blinked rapidly, an adorable frown knitting his brow. But he flipped his hand over to lace his long fingers with Louis’ instinctively, and swallowed audibly before continuing.

“If…you were mad at me?”

And if Louis _had_ actually been mad, just hearing that would’ve melted his anger. Not for the first time that day, he felt a swell of love bloom in his chest for this boy.

“Sweetheart,” he couldn’t help but croon softly. A tell-tale sound quickly interrupted him, however.

Harry’s eyes widened in realization. Louis tried to bite back a grin, and failed.

“Is that. Is that the washing machine?!” Harry asked, mouth forming a perfect “o” in surprise.

Jesus, clearly Louis didn’t help out around the house enough, if Harry’s awestruck reaction was anything to go by. He looked like Louis had just given him a golden ticket to the chocolate factory, for god’s sake.

“Yes, Harold. I can occasionally do laundry,” he huffed. Harry ducked his head and grinned.

“And no,” Louis continued softly after a moment, stroking the back of Harry’s hand. “I’m not mad at you.”

The hopeful look on Harry’s face only confirmed Louis’ plan. The fact that Harry had to apologize for cute banter onstage, just because it was _them_ , proved it had gone too far—the PR strategies, the keeping their distance in public, the image control. Louis didn’t want to live in a world where he couldn’t laugh with his best mate and boyfriend at stupid jokes, where Harry ever had to doubt Louis had anything but love for him.

“If anything, _I_ want to apologize,” Louis admitted. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Louis raised a hand to silence him.

“I let things get too far—and I don’t mean with the show tonight. Be honest, that was wicked,” he said.

Harry’s tentative smile bloomed into a full-dimpled grin as he nodded hesitantly.

“I mean with us—the contracts and the rules and the image shit. I, I hate it,” he said in a shaky voice.

“Babe,” Harry said sympathetically, his smile softening. He scooted his chair closer to Louis’.

“You hate it, I hate it, the lads, our families, the fans…and it has to stop.”

“What happened, Lou? When they talked to you tonight?” Harry asked, zeroing in on what Louis was getting to almost psychically, and yeah, Zayn was right, that was a bit creepy. _Focus._

“That in terms of our plan…it’s not good,” Louis confessed. Harry closed his eyes and sighed.

“And the only reason I’m not ringing that wanker Jones as we speak,” Louis continued, squeezing Harry’s hand, “is that I think they’re in the minority on this one. Did you see the crowd tonight? Did you see the lads? That’s…that’s how it should always be, Haz,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of Harry’s hand.

“And if they’re not going to budge this way, well. I say we do it the way we’ve seen gets results.” Louis took a nervous breath, waiting for Harry to catch up. Sure enough, a moment later, Harry’s eyes widened and an awed smile spread over his face.

“Let’s ask the fans for help.” Louis proposed.

“You mean…you want to tell them about us?” Harry frowned a little, protective of Louis as ever.

“Eventually; that’s always been the plan. But I wasn’t thinking of just us,” Louis said, taking a sip of his cooled tea. Gross.

Harry nodded at Louis to continue.

“There’s not much we can do officially in the middle of a tour. Breaking contract wouldn’t help right now. But unofficially, I think we could have more fun onstage. Give the fans what they want.”

Harry took a minute to let that sink in, taking a contemplative sip of his tea, now lukewarm. Ugh.

“They can control us,” Harry mused, “but they can’t control the fans.” Louis nodded, a smile growing on his face.

“Can I still tell jokes?” Harry asked.

“As many as you want. Wow us with your comedic talent,” Louis teased, nudging Harry with his elbow.

“You think the lads will back this?” Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

“After tonight? Babe, I’d be surprised if they weren’t holed up in Liam’s war room talking strategy as we speak.”

Harry giggled. "The war room is just Liam's home gym, isn't it."

"I believe he's added a table recently," Louis exhaled on a laugh. He tentatively met Harry's eyes and saw a reflection of his own hopefulness and love mirrored there. They shared a soft smile in their quiet kitchen, the only sound the rhythmic thrumming of the washing machine.

“So where do we start?” Harry asked.

“So glad you asked, Hazza. How would you feel about a little late night meditation?” Louis asked, slowly unwinding the simple black headband wrapped around his slender wrist.

“For inspiration? Purely scientific purposes?” Harry asked with wicked grin.

“Of course, yeah. Science,” Louis said breathily, his pulse quickening in anticipation. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Harry’s jaw and brought his mouth up to whisper in his ear, “I quite fancy some yoga, if I’m honest. You know...to come up with ideas.”

Harry shivered at the touch and traced the contours of Louis’ hand before gently tugging the headband from his grasp. He didn’t take his eyes off Louis’ as he stretched it experimentally, testing the elasticity with a dangerous smirk that had gotten Louis to do all kinds of things over the years.

Harry brushed a teasing kiss over Louis’ mouth. The look in his eyes was predatory.

“On the floor then,” Harry rasped, eyes heatedly flickering down Louis’ body.

And yeah. Louis was so on board for that plan. Harry’s gaze settled on Louis’ dick, which was hardening in his pants. _Yoga pants_.

Jesus.

*

Louis stood on shaky legs, desperate to feel Harry’s touch. As if reading his mind, Harry brought his hands up to feather Louis’ thighs with soft strokes. Louis bit his lip as they traveled upwards, completely bypassing his now fully hard cock to curl around his hips. Harry pulled him closer, spreading his thighs so Louis could stand between them, and pressed his full, pink lips to Louis’ stomach.

“I quite like these pants,” he murmured against Louis’ belly, his hot breath tickling the sensitive skin there. Harry nuzzled the spot gently before looking up at Louis with lust-blown eyes. Before Louis could respond, though—

_Smack._

Harry’s hand came down on Louis’ arse, hard. Louis gasped, his hips involuntarily jerking forward.

“I believe I gave you an order, love.”

Louis lowered his eyes and nodded, cheeks flushed. His heart was pounding in his chest, his whole body going taut in anticipation. He chanced a look at Harry through his lashes then. Harry met his eyes and gestured for Louis to go stand in the living room. Louis felt his feet carrying him toward the center of the room, his thoughts a chorus of _yesyesyes_.

Once Louis reached the soft area rug, he stopped. Behind him, he could hear the soft rustle of fabric as Harry peeled off his shirt. Louis wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch of Harry’s smooth, lean torso. He knew better than to turn around, though.

Harry stopped a few feet behind him. “I think we’ll start in child’s pose,” he mused. “Since you’re a beginner.”

Louis rolled his eyes, because honestly. Yoga was ridiculous. _Harry_ was ridic—

Harry curled his fist in the back of Louis’ hair and yanked sharply. Louis gasped.

“I saw that,” Harry said with amusement in his voice. He relaxed his grip, gently scratching Louis’ scalp, making the smaller man sigh in pleasure. Harry curled his hand around the nape of Louis’ neck, applying light pressure and coaxing Louis down onto the floor.

Louis eased onto all fours before sinking back onto his heels in the familiar position he’d seen Harry do often. He stretched his arms forward, palms facing down, and rested his forehead on the carpet. Harry made a hum of approval above him, but didn’t move yet. Louis’ cheeks burned and his pulse hammered in anticipation.

Louis jumped when he felt Harry’s fingers teasing along his side. He hadn’t even heard him move.

“Breathe, Lou,” Harry whispered against the nape of his neck, sending shocks of pleasure down his spine. Louis took a ragged breath and let it out slowly. Harry pressed his lips to the spot and then began trailing them down his back. Dimly, Louis knew he was supposed to be thinking about something, but he couldn’t remember what. Harry’s lips were burning a trail of fire down his bare back, and he figured it would have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a review if you'd like! you can also hit me up on tumblr: http://1diamondinthesun.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis’ eyes fluttered closed at the contact, and he felt butterflies in his stomach where moments ago there was anger. And wasn’t that just like Harry—lifting his spirits, making him feel loved and cherished all the time. He shouldn’t be surprised anymore, because Harry was the epitome of everything good and honest in the world. He was cheeky and beautiful and kind-hearted and so, so lovely. Yet he looked at Louis like he hung the moon, like he was all those things to Harry, and. God. He was never, ever going to give this boy—this man up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Faraday has no one to blame but herself at this point. 
> 
> Sorry for the wait--long chapter!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! And remember, in the immortal words of Louis Tomlinson, you may not be plastic--but you ARE fantastic. Never forget that. xx

_Louis eased onto all fours before sinking back onto his heels in the familiar position he’d seen Harry do often. He stretched his arms forward, palms facing down, and rested his forehead on the carpet. Harry made a hum of approval above him, but didn’t move yet. Louis’ cheeks burned and his pulse hammered in anticipation._

_Louis jumped when he felt Harry’s fingers teasing along his side. He hadn’t even heard him move._

_“Breathe, Lou,” Harry whispered against the nape of his neck, sending shocks of pleasure down his spine. Louis took a ragged breath and let it out slowly. Harry pressed his lips to the spot and then began trailing them down his back. Dimly, Louis knew he was supposed to be thinking about something, but he couldn’t remember what. Harry’s lips were burning a trail of fire down his back, and he figured it would have to wait._

He felt rather than heard Harry settle on all fours, boxing him in with his bigger body.

Harry’s hot breath fanned across his skin and large hands came up to massage the small of his back. Louis groaned softly as Harry slowly kneaded the spot, working out the tension from the show that night. He felt himself relax for the first time that day. Harry stroked up to Louis’ delicate shoulder blades and then circled his thumbs along his shoulders, gradually applying more pressure. He worked in silence for a few moments, feeling Louis slowly go pliant under his hands. Finally Harry's hands stilled and he dropped a kiss to the small of Louis’ back.

“Hands and knees, love,” he commanded softly.

Louis let out a content sigh, drowsy with pleasure as he came up onto all fours. At the moment, he couldn’t remember why he hated yoga.

Harry’s warm hand smoothed across the small of Louis’ back, instructing him to straighten his spine. The position arched his lower back and accentuated the curve of his arse in the tight pants. The little rhinestone angel's wings sparkled.

“Good, Lou,” Harry appraised, taking in the sight before him. Louis’ narrow ribcage expanded with soft, steady breaths, his skin golden in the light. Harry’s hands teased along his sides, and Louis’ breath hitched. His instinct was to jerk away from the tickling, but he grit his teeth and remained still. Harry smirked when he saw Louis’ muscles lock, aware of how ticklish he was. So he eased off, sweeping his hands down Louis’ back and across the swell of his arse. Harry grabbed a handful in each palm and squeezed.

Louis whined low in his throat and rocked back into the touch.

“So pretty, love,” Harry whispered in awe, cupping and squeezing his arse. He ran his hands along the inside of Louis’ thighs, felt the thick muscles there. Harry curled one hand around Louis’ left thigh and cupped Louis through his pants with the other. His erection was straining the soft fabric. Harry continued to massage Louis’ thigh as he gently squeezed his cock.

The sensation punched a ragged breath out of Louis. His head hung between his shoulder blades. “Haz,” he whimpered. Louis was rocking his hips back in tiny movements, desperate for friction.

Something about being on display like this, wearing girl’s yoga pants made Louis feel feminine… _slutty._ He felt like he was going to come in these fucking pants like a teenager. God. The thought of it had him on the brink. Behind him, Harry was still steadily stroking him, never applying quite enough pressure to get him off. Louis squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself not to come.

“So what’s this— _ah!_ —one called again? _Fuck_ ,” he asked breathlessly. “This um, position.”

Harry stilled behind him, hand coming to a stop on his aching cock. And no, that was _so_ not on.

“Umm…” Harry hummed, pretending to think of the name like he'd never done yoga before.

“That’s...not important.”

Louis narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Harry,” he said in a warning tone.

“Technically, the original word is something different, I just don’t remember—

Louis turned his head sharply.

_“Harry.”_

“It’s um. Sometimes referred to as cow pose?” He replied hesitantly, “As in cat and cow? Except I was reading somewhere that—

“HARRY!” Louis cried in indignation, attempting to swing around and wrestle Harry to the ground.

“Now, Lou…” Harry wheedled, petting over Louis’ hips in a placating gesture. "You're overreacting." When that failed and Louis was still trying to wiggle out of the position, Harry held tighter to his hips.

"You put me in _cow pose?_!" Louis accused.

“It’s just a name!” Harry insisted. "It's not like you're really a--

"Aaahh!" Louis yelled, slipping from Harry's grasp victoriously. He pinned Harry down on the ground, straddling his thighs. "Finish that sentence and die, I swear to god," he warned, nose to nose with Harry. Harry clamped him mouth shut obediently.

“First child’s play,” Louis said incredulously.

“Child’s _pose_ , Lou,” Harry bit back a grin. Louis was not amused.

“And then COW?!” Louis exclaimed, digging his fingers into Harry’s very ticklish sides.

“It’s just a name!” Harry cried, squirming under Louis’ assault. “Aah!” he gasped. He laughed as Louis tickled him relentlessly. In one swift move, he rolled them over so he was on top of Louis. He was still giggling as he began to pepper kisses all over Louis’ face.

“Release me, you caveman!” Louis snapped, bucking to get free.

When Harry brushed a kiss to the sensitive spot below his ear, Louis snorted a laugh. Harry smiled and pressed teasing kisses along Louis' neck.

“Is that why you brought me these fucking pants?” he said exasperatedly. “So you could call me a child and a cow? A—a child cow?”

Harry paused and drew his lips back to stare curiously at that. He frowned adorably, but NO. Louis was not going to cave this time.

“Lou…I didn’t give you these pants,” Harry said slowly, searching his eyes for any joke.

Louis rolled his eyes and huffed. “Right, I suppose they just appeared, then.”

“Lou,” Harry insisted, sitting back on Louis’ thighs. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them, you look hot as fuck, but…I didn’t give them to you.”

Louis’ jaw dropped in frustration. “Haz, you gave them to me! Tonight, at the show!”

Harry bit his lip, deep in thought. Louis realized Harry had forgotten all about the pants.

“At the break, you idiot!” he cried, smacking Harry’s thigh. “You tossed them to me and then grabbed a banana, like you always do. You cannot be serious.” Louis let his head thump down on the ground in fond exasperation.

Harry thought back to their rushed break in the dressing room, and could see himself standing at the catering table looking for just the right banana. Only there had been two that were both perfect looking, so he had decided to take them both...

“Harry! Focus,” Louis chided impatiently.

Harry hadn’t even had time to talk to Louis, had just picked up the present he’d found and tossed it to Louis—

 _Oh_. His eyes flashed to Louis’ before looking away nervously.

“Um, Louis.” His cautious tone made Louis’ eyes widen in panic.

“Harry.”

“Well, I didn’t actually buy you those pants. I, um. Had no idea they were even pants? Something went flying through the air, and remember that time last year in, um Pittsburgh—or maybe it was Hershey—

“What _are_ you talking about?” Louis asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Like when that girl jumped onstage? So I thought, when I saw this tonight…but it wasn’t a girl!” Harry assured him, mistaking Louis’ confusion for concern.

“Yeah, it was just this…thing. But I didn’t know what it was?” Harry admitted. “And it had your name on it, so.”

Panic swirled in Louis stomach, refusing to believe what he thought Harry was saying.

Harry bit his lip and his eyes widened apologetically.

“I found them on the stage, Lou.”

Louis froze, his mouth hanging open in shock.

 _Motherfucker_.

*

Louis blinked at Harry in silence for a moment, Harry’s expression mirroring his own utter shock.

Louis’ eyes widened at what Harry had said, the full implications finally setting in.

Louis was wearing anonymous exercise pants.

His face contorted in horror and his skin itched where he was still spread out underneath Harry.

Harry, who was looking at him with real remorse, face frozen in disbelief.

“You absolute wanker,” Louis breathed, eyes narrowing dangerously. Harry looked torn between guilt and laughing.

At the accusation, Harry began to grin, the smile growing across his face. He was doing everything he could to refrain from laughing, the fucker. His eyes sparkled with mirth and he appeared to be holding his breath.

“At least you left your pants on, then,” he said dismissively, choking with laughter.

Instead of a reply, Louis’ face blushed scarlet and he closed his eyes tight. Because, shit.

He most certainly wasn’t wearing pants underneath.

Harry’s eyes widened in realization and he burst out laughing at last. His head fell back in glee and he laughed until he was gasping for breath.

Louis glared up at Harry and tried to buck him off his middle. Harry just laughed harder, clutching his stomach.

“I will end you, Harry,” Louis vowed dangerously.

Harry cackled, tears coming to his eyes from laughing.

 _“You’re—“_ he said, trying to catch his breath, _“wearing,”_ he wheezed with laughter “ _a_ _stranger’s pants!”_ he gasped, pointing at Louis.

And then proceeded to fall over, laughing hysterically. He rolled around on the carpet in a fit of giggles like a spastic tattooed giraffe while Louis looked on in disgust.

Louis was dating a five year old.

That continued on for a while until finally Harry sprawled out limply, throwing an arm over his face as his laughter subsided to soft chuckles. He turned to see Louis shaking his head, cheeks still pink with embarrassment.

“Aw, Lou,” Harry crooned apologetically. He curled onto his side facing Louis, biting back another round of laughter. “I’m sorry.” His bright green eyes sparkled with mirth still.

Louis felt a tiny bit of his anger dissipating, but refused to budge. He was proper embarrassed.

Harry’s expression softened and he scooted closer to Louis until he could curl around the smaller man.

“Lou,” he sang. Louis narrowed his eyes and turned his head away.

“Louiiiis.” Harry nuzzled against the side of Louis’ face and the sensitive skin of his neck. Louis twitched but refused to smile, looking resolutely at the ceiling.

“Louuuu,” Harry cajoled, wrapping his gangly octopus limbs around Louis. “I’m sorry I laughed at you,” he chuckled, pulling Louis into his warmth.

Louis huffed.

“And ‘m sorry I made you do cow pose.” He stroked soothingly up and down Louis’ bicep, humming softly.

Louis felt his resolve slipping.

“And I’m sorry I gave you pants from the stage,” he said as he pressed a kiss to Louis’ cheek.

“Have you quite finished?” Louis snapped, but there was no venom behind it. Beside him, Harry was solid and warm and he was literally wrapped in love.

Harry carefully cupped Louis’ chin in his hand and turned his head to face him. Louis took in Harry’s soft, sea-glass green eyes, his rosy cheeks, and full, red lips. Harry’s smile grew until dimples appeared, and he nodded once.

“Yes,” he whispered as he looked into Louis’ eyes. He brushed a gentle kiss to the tip of Louis’ nose.

Louis’ eyes fluttered closed at the contact, and he felt butterflies in his stomach where moments ago there was anger. And wasn’t that just like Harry—lifting his spirits, making him feel loved and cherished all the time. He shouldn’t be surprised anymore, because Harry was the epitome of everything good and honest in the world. He was cheeky and beautiful and kind-hearted and so, so lovely. Yet he looked at Louis like he hung the moon, like _he_ was all those things to Harry, and. God. He was never, ever going to give this boy—this _man_ up.

Louis took a deep breath and then sighed decisively. He turned in Harry’s arms so they were both on their sides facing each other. He contemplated Harry’s face as he lifted a slender hand to wind a curl around his fingers. Harry closed his eyes peacefully and let the quiet of their house settle around him.

“Okay then,” Louis said softly, carding his fingers through Harry’s hair. Harry slowly blinked his eyes open, drowsy from the comforting touch.

“Okay,” Harry whispered, not daring to break the spell of the moment.

They stared at each other for a moment, warm and content in their embrace. Louis was the one to finally break the spell. He grinned sheepishly and buried his face in Harry’s chest with a groan.

“I fucking hate yoga.”

Harry dissolved into giggles once more, but this time Louis was laughing with him.

*

Slowly their laughter subsided. Louis lifted his head to press a kiss to Harry’s chin and then his smiling lips. He brought his smaller, thin lips to Harry’s fuller ones. He loved kissing Harry. Louis pulled back with one more soft peck before searching Harry’s eyes.

Harry looked relaxed and soft in the lamplight. He smiled serenely at Louis before leaning in to claim his lips, his mouth taking control. He kissed Louis leisurely.

Louis melted into him contentedly.

Harry deepened the kiss, teasing his tongue against Louis’ bottom lip. Louis sighed and opened his mouth for Harry, tangling their legs together. Harry licked into his mouth and explored with a skilled tongue. When their tongues met, it sent a throb of pleasure through Louis’ delicate frame. He opened his mouth wider in invitation, and Harry groaned softly. He cupped the side of Louis’ throat, feeling his pulse rabbiting under the soft skin. He thumbed over the spot while he took Louis’ mouth again, teasing and massaging his tongue with his own in a way he knew made Louis hard. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and kissed back urgently.

Harry rocked his hips experimentally against Louis’, feeling him hard through the yoga pants. Harry's own erection strained through his skinny jeans. He rolled Louis onto his back and ground firmly against him, and Louis moaned softly and arched into it. His bare torso pressed into Louis’, causing sparks of heat between them. Harry took his mouth again and again, the wet sound of their mouths meeting filling the empty room. Louis rolled his hips against Harry’s insistently and Harry gasped into his mouth.

When they finally broke apart, Louis’ cheeks were flushed for another reason, his arms wound around Harry’s shoulders and cock aching hard, with Harry panting into the crook of Louis’ neck. He trailed breathless kisses upwards, lingering on the sweet spot below Louis' ear. He sucked it softly while Louis’ eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. Louis let his head drop to the side to grant Harry better access.

Harry gently nipped the spot with his teeth and continued to grind against Louis, whose hips jerked up at the bite. Harry listened to his breathing speed up, felt his pulse pounding under his lips. He wanted to take Louis apart right there on the living room floor, but his back was beginning to ache after the show. He was also sporting a little rug burn on his back from rolling around laughing, which. Worth it.

Harry placed one more searing kiss to Louis’ mouth before pulling back. He took in the sight of Louis, skin flushed, blue eyes glazed with desire and lips swollen from kissing. Lou was going to have fun covering those bites on his neck with makeup tomorrow for the show, but she was a pro at that by now.

“Bed,” Harry ordered breathlessly. Louis blinked up at him with lust-filled eyes, his bruised lips parted slightly around shallow breaths. It appeared he was attempting to respond, but all that came out was a helpless moan.

Harry pulled Louis to his feet and swept the smaller man into his arms.

“Babe—“ Louis protested weakly, “I can walk—

Harry shushed him with a quick peck to his cheek and carried Louis up the stairs.

Inside their bedroom, Harry kicked the door shut and carefully placed Louis on the bed.

Harry arranged him closer to the headboard and Louis rested his head one on of their plush pillows with a sigh. Then Harry crawled over Louis onto all fours, kissing him deeply as he pinned his hands above his head. Louis hummed in approval, and Harry tangled their fingers together.

Harry carefully gathered both of Louis’ small wrists in one hand and pinned them down. His other hand began trailing down Louis’ face, cupping his scruffy jaw, his slender neck, and finally settled on his prominent collarbones. Harry flicked his tongue against Louis’ and sucked the tip into his hot mouth.

Louis was going to go crazy from the teasing. He squirmed in Harry’s hold, trying to get him hands on the younger man, only to find he couldn’t. His legs twitched restlessly, finally coming up to frame Harry’s denim-clad hips. Harry growled a soft warning and tightened his grip around Louis’ wrists; he nipped sharply at his bottom lip before pulling back.

“Gonna be good for me, Lou?” he purred, teasing his fingers down Louis’ heaving chest.

_Jesus yes, yesyesyes._

When Louis’ didn’t respond quickly enough, Harry flicked his thumbnail over a nipple. Louis’ hips jerked involuntarily as he cried out, and his head thumped back on the pillow.

“Answer me, love,” Harry warned, squeezing Louis’ bound wrists.

Louis let out a ragged breath and nodded.

“Y-yes,” he whispered.

Harry smiled softly and resumed exploring Louis’ body. He smoothed his thumb over Louis’ taut nipple and claimed his mouth again. His fingers trailed a familiar path down Louis’ narrow ribcage and across his now-muscular abs, before massaging over the hard length of Louis’ cock. Louis whimpered but resisted arching into the touch.

Harry smirked in satisfaction and rewarded Louis with a swipe over the head of his cock. He rubbed slowly through the fabric and felt it already wet.

“Haz,” Louis whispered.

Harry eased back, meeting Louis’ lust-blown eyes. He pushed Louis’ wrists into the bed for emphasis as he released them.

“Stay,” he rasped. Louis nodded immediately and watched as Harry unwound the new headband from his wrist. He thumbed over it thoughtfully and eventually met Louis’ eyes.

“’S rough—going to chafe,” he said, and tossed it over his shoulder without a second glance.

Louis resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because Harry constantly treated him like he was made of porcelain. But his heart fluttered at the attentiveness Harry was showing—was _always_ showing.

Harry sat back on his heels and untied the headscarf in his disheveled curls. Louis studied him with a soft smile, taking in the long lines of his tattooed chest, the ripple of his biceps as he unwound the scrap of silk from his head, and his strong thighs in those damned skinny jeans. Then Louis moved to his face, to the long, dark lashes that framed green eyes Louis had loved since the day they met, to the slope of his nose and the curve of his plump lips.

Harry glanced up then, locking eyes with Louis, who didn’t even try to school the fond look he was wearing. Harry’s answering smile bloomed across his face until his dimples showed, and he looked down self-consciously. Because Harry apparently had no idea, even now, how fucking beautiful he was.

_“Believe me, you’re gorgeous, love,” Louis had told a nervous seventeen-year-old Harry standing backstage once._

_“I don’t know I’m beautiful?” Harry guessed wryly, rolling his eyes. Louis had smacked the back of his head, making the then-shorter-than-Louis Harry yelp, and then scratched soothingly at his scalp._

_“Yes, you twat,” Louis said fondly. Harry bit his lip and chanced a look at Louis._

_“I might need a lot of convincing,” he mumbled, and looked shyly at his shoes._

_Louis had huffed fondly and pulled the boy into his arms, whispering, “Then I’ll tell you every day, idiot.”_

_Three years later, he still did._

In front of him, Harry examined the simple, olive-green scarf before looking up.

Louis smiled softly. “I like yours better, anyway.”

Harry returned the fond smile. “I know,” he said silkily, setting the scarf down on the bed beside him. Then he stood and began unbuttoning his trousers.

Louis sighed, his heart beating a faster tempo.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are today?” he asked quietly.

Harry didn’t even miss a beat.

“Twice,” he grinned. He peeled the black trousers down his long legs, revealing tight black boxer briefs.

Jesus.

Louis should be used to it by now, but Harry was breathtakingly beautiful. It was like someone had made him to fit Louis perfectly, hard and soft in all the right places.

Harry stepped clumsily out of his jeans and kicked them aside. Without ceremony, he pulled off his pants. And, well. Fair; they were both past the point of teasing. Harry’s heavy cock was painfully hard and red. Belatedly, Louis realized that the yoga thing might really do it for Harry.

He didn’t really have time to ponder it, though, as Harry was kneeling on the bed and crawling toward him. He took in the smaller man spread beneath him, and the way his cock strained the black pants obscenely. Harry scattered wet, bruising kisses across his chest. He swirled his tongue slowly around Louis’ sensitive nipple, and Louis’ ab muscles clenched as he tried not to move.

Then Harry sucked the hard little nub into his mouth, dragging his teeth across it lightly, and Louis absolutely keened. He threw his head back and curled his little hands into fists, biceps flexing with effort. Harry gave the same attention to the other side, teasing and nibbling on his nipple until Louis was making desperate little choked sounds.

Harry trailed sucking kisses down Louis’ stomach, biting once at the sensitive spot below his belly button before coming to a stop at the waistband of the pants. He raised his head and gave Louis a significant glance.

“We’re keeping these,” he said as he began rolling the pants down Louis’ hips. Louis huffed but didn’t comment, and Harry counted that as a win. When the pants reached Louis’ thighs, his hard cock sprang free.

Louis groaned when the cool air hit his sensitive cock, the swollen head already leaking.

Harry made quick work of the rest of the pants and dropped them off the bed, making a mental note to put them in the washer tomorrow because _they were keeping these fucking pants_. Then he curled his hands around Louis’ delicate ankles and spread his legs.

He stroked upwards, gently massaging Louis’ calves, and Louis sighed happily. Harry rubbed over his knees and the strong thighs he’d always loved, teasing along the insides in light circles. He couldn’t resist kissing the soft skin of Louis’ inner thighs, sucking a mark high on the left one. Louis’ hips jerked reflexively, and he moaned.

Harry bit down on the spot in punishment, and Louis gasped. Harry laved over the spot with his tongue and rubbed his hips soothingly.

Harry coaxed his thighs open until Louis was spread open beneath him, and settled on his stomach.

He leaned in and his hot breath fanned over Louis’ cock, which was rigid and red now.

“Please,” Louis whimpered brokenly.

Harry looked up at him through his lashes as he licked a stripe up the underside of Louis’ cock, lapping up the pre-cum leaking out. He circled his tongue around the head and tongued at the slit.

Louis opened his mouth to cry out, but no sound came out. Harry watched his face as he licked over the head of Louis’ cock, the way his hands clutched the headboard and his eyes slid closed in pleasure. His mouth fell open on a silent moan.

Tired of teasing, Harry sucked Louis’ cock down in one smooth motion.

“Harry, fuck,” Louis swore helplessly.

Harry hummed contentedly and took him down further, until the head brushed the back of his throat. Louis rolled his hips up into the wet heat of Harry’s mouth, a stream of curses falling from his lips.

Louis’ thighs were shaking under Harry’s hands, his entire body going taut. So Harry slowly pulled off, giving the sensitive underside of the head one more firm lick.

Louis groaned at the loss of contact and his eyes opened reluctantly.

Harry slid up his body and Louis reached down to grab his aching neglected cock. Harry shook his head and wordlessly pinned Louis’ hand back down. He was honestly afraid the slightest touch to his cock would push him over the edge right now.

He placed one more lingering kiss to Louis’ lips before retrieving the green scarf and the bottle of lube on the dresser. He set them next to him by the pillow.

“Okay, love?” he asked Louis, tilting his chin to meet his eyes. Louis’ chest was heaving and his hips rolling into nothing, desperate. He took a shallow breath and stuttered out a yes.

Harry stroked his cheek and brushed his now-sweaty hair back from his face. Then he carefully looped the headscarf around Louis’ wrists with practiced ease. He tied them to the slats of the headboard and double-checked the knot.

“Good?” he asked Louis, who tested the binding and nodded. He sank against the pillows with a content smile.

"What's your word?" he prompted.

"Granola," Louis grinned, rolling his eyes at the utter silliness. Harry winked and nodded.

He took one of the pillows and placed it under Louis’ hips before leaning in close to his ear.

“You’re going to come on my fingers, and then I’m going to fuck you,” he breathed against the shell of Louis’ ear, who could only shudder and nod. He spread his legs further for Harry in anticipation.

Harry nipped his earlobe before grabbing the lube and resuming his place between Louis' thighs. He teased his tongue around Louis’ balls and swiped it across the sensitive patch behind, applying more pressure. The sensation punched a moan out of Louis.

He gently lifted and spread Louis’ legs wider until he had a perfect view of his hole, and his own cock throbbed at the sight. He ground his hips against the bed once before getting to work.

Harry licked lower, circling his tongue around Louis’ rim with the lightest of touches. He flicked experimentally across the hole, once, twice, and Louis was moaning louder. Harry licked a broad stripe over it, feeling the ring of muscles contract.

He reached for the lube and coated his fingers carefully before slowly pushing his tongue inside. He worked just the tip in for a moment, teasing. Then he thrust his tongue deeper into Louis’ tight heat, stretching him.

Louis mewled above him, pulling on his restraints. He was going out of his mind; he felt like he’d never needed to come so much in his life. His cock lay neglected against his stomach.

Harry thrust his tongue deeper, circling around Louis’ sensitive walls. He brought a finger to his entrance and gently teased against it, not yet pushing in. Louis arched into the touch.

“Please,” he gasped, clenching around Harry’s tongue.

Harry slid his finger into him slowly, replacing his tongue as he sucked in a breath. He swirled his finger deep inside, just like Louis liked. Louis was already asking for more.

Harry withdrew and slowly pressed back in with two fingers. He began to slowly fuck them in and out, keeping a torturous pace when Louis begged him to go faster.

He licked across Louis’ hole and around his fingers, and Louis’ toes curled in pleasure. His pulse skyrocketed and his chest heaved. Harry pushed his tongue inside and hummed lowly, and Louis threw his head back and sobbed. It was just too much—Harry’s long fingers thrusting in and out, his hot tongue working in between, making Louis’ thighs shake.

Harry pulled back and drizzled more lube on his fingers before slowly pushing three inside, and Louis cried out. He was so close now.

“Yeah, Lou?” Harry intoned, feeling around inside for the bundle of nerves that would send Louis over the edge. “Gonna come for me?” His fingers brushed over the nub of Louis’ prostate, and Louis wailed.

“So pretty, Lou,” he coaxed, steadily massaging the spot. “So tight for me.” With one more strong jab to Louis’ bundle of nerves, Harry latched his mouth onto his rim and sucked hard.

Louis came with a hoarse sob, his entire body bowing off the bed and cock untouched. He clenched tightly around Harry’s fingers as wave after wave of pleasure hit him. Harry held him down by the hip, stroking and sucking him through it until Louis collapsed limply onto the bed, crying softly. Harry stroked his hip as he slowly withdrew his fingers, watching Louis’ hole contract around nothing. He slowly climbed up the bed and wiped the tears from Louis’ cheeks with his clean hand, murmuring soothing words into his hair. Louis’ body was still shaking as he gingerly untied the scarf from his wrists. Harry cupped them in his hands, gently massaging blood flow back into Louis’ hands.

He carefully pressed a kiss to each delicate wrist before releasing them.

Louis was still trying to catch his breath, body trembling from his orgasm. He clumsily caught a handful of Harry's hair and drew him in for a shaky kiss.

“Oh my god,” he rasped, voice hoarse and fucked out now. Louis reached between them and trailed his hand down Harry’s body. He grasped his cock and stroked him firmly, making a shudder run through Harry’s body.

“Fuck,” he gasped, stilling Louis’ hand on his cock. He reached blindly for the lube and slicked up his cock generously.

“Yeah, Haz?” Louis asked breathily. “Gonna fuck me?”

Harry groaned and grabbed the base of his cock to keep from coming at Louis’ words. He took a shaky breath, and his heart was hammering so loudly he thought Louis must hear it.

He moved between Louis’ legs, hitching them higher as he lined up against his slick hole. He met Louis’ eyes and waited for his nod before slowly pushing inside.

The head of Harry’s cock breached the tight ring of muscle and Louis gasped at the stretch, still so tight. He paused for a moment to let Louis adjust. Harry felt him relax gradually and pushed deeper into the tight heat he loved.

Louis arched his hips closer, trying to take Harry deeper, and he slid in another inch. The pressure was already unbearable; Harry was just so big. Harry withdrew slowly, and Louis whined in protest. Harry placed a lingering kiss to Louis’ lips, then snapped his hips forward, thrusting deep. He buried himself in Louis' tight body until he bottomed out.

They groaned in unison at the exquisite stretch. Harry ground into him, circling his hips filthily.

Louis’ cock was filling up again to his amazement. He tightened his thighs around Harry’s hips, drawing him in as far as he would go. Harry set up a bruising pace, driving into Louis again and again. Sweat slicked his straining muscles and the places they were touching. The sound of their bodies coming together filled the room.

Harry was already close. Had been probably since he walked in the door and saw Louis in those fucking yoga pants.

“Keeping. Those. Pants,” Harry gasped, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.

Louis narrowed his eyes and clenched down hard on Harry’s cock.

“Make me.”

Harry’s jaw dropped, and Louis just grinned and raised his eyebrows in challenge.

Harry grinned back and wordlessly raised Louis’ left leg up to his shoulder. The change in position had Harry’s cock hitting Louis’ prostate with precision, and the smaller man cursed.

“Gonna come Lou?” Harry teased breathlessly.

“Fuck you,” Louis ground out, rolling his hips to meet Harry thrust for thrust.

Harry laughed hoarsely, switching to shallow, quick strokes that had Louis gasping breathy _“Ah ah ahs”_ with each thrust. Pleasure coiled tight in his stomach and he reached a hand to grasp his cock.

Harry batted it away with a growl and gripped his cock, beginning to jerk him quickly.

“Say it,” he ordered with a particularly rough thrust. Louis eyes rolled back as Harry rubbed over the head of his cock, driving into him relentlessly. Harry jabbed at his prostate harder.

 _“Shit fuck OKAY!”_ Louis shuddered. “Keep the fucking pants!”

Harry wanked him in earnest then, pounding into his slick heat over and over. He thumbed over the head of Louis’ cock once more, and Louis was gone. He screamed Harry’s name as he clenched down on Harry's cock, his orgasm ripping through him.

 

The feeling of Louis rhythmically squeezing his cock, his hips jerking as he rode it out was what pushed Harry over the edge. He thrust once, twice, and he was coming hard in Louis’ arse, back arching and a hoarse cry echoing in the room. His hips stuttered when he felt Louis clenching him again while he rode out his orgasm, another wave of come spilling into him. Harry stilled, panting, as he trembled through the aftershocks.

He gently dropped Louis’ legs onto the bed and collapsed partway onto him. Beneath him, Louis was sprawled spread-eagle, trying to catch his breath. He weakly wrapped his arms around Harry. They stayed locked together like that for a moment before Harry gently pulled out. He curled up on his side facing Louis, sweaty and out of breath.

Louis turned to face him, equally sweaty, and met Harry’s eyes.

“Jesus.”

“I know,” Harry wheezed, smiling lopsidedly.

Louis reached out a heavy arm to lace his fingers with Harry’s. Harry wrapped his big hand around Louis’ smaller and squeezed weakly.

“Love you,” Louis mumbled with a tired smile. Harry brought their joined hands up to kiss Louis’.

“Love you, too,” he rasped, eyes soft.

After a moment, he stood on shaky Bambi legs and stumbled to the bathroom. He came back with a cold flannel and gently wiped Louis and then himself clean. Louis was already dozing off as Harry curled around him and pulled the blankets up around them. Louis dragged his fingers through Harry’s sweaty curls, and Harry’s eyes felt heavy. He cuddled up closer to Louis.

Just as he was drifting off, he heard Louis snort,

“Fuckin yoga pants.”

Harry fell asleep with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue shortly! :)
> 
> Leave a comment if you'd like, or say hello on tumblr! http://1diamondinthesun.tumblr.com/


	4. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry spit his water in surprise and hurriedly tried to mop it up while Louis burst out laughing.  
> “Is that a euphemism?” Zayn asked disinterestedly, taking a sip of coffee.  
> “Jesus,” Louis sighed, burying his face in his hands.  
> "Is this a sex thing? Are we talkin about sex?" Niall asked.  
> Louis waggled his eyebrows and leered suggestively across the table, and Niall grinned.  
> "Wey hey, Tommo, whatever floats your boat."
> 
> In which Liam has a social media empire, Wembley stadium has bananas, Niall ain't no Hollaback Girl, and the tour takes a turn for the Larry. Shit is going down.
> 
> ...and I may or may not have a playlist on my phone called "Harry Cupcake Styles."
> 
> <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and the award for the most awkward larry sex scene goes to...ME :) Thank you, thank you--I'll be here all week. I love you all!
> 
> Sorry for the delay. I'm a terrible human. If you haven't seen the wild 2005 goodness that is Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl," here it is. You're welcome. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kgjkth6BRRY 
> 
> Special thanks to Ivette for a great tumblr name :)

The loud ping of a text notification woke Louis at 3 a.m. His phone glowed where it lay forgotten on his nightstand. Beside him, a sleeping Harry snuffled into his neck like the actual overgrown kitten he was. Louis shook his head blearily and had decided to go back to bed when another text message echoed in the room, and then another. Jesus.

Louis reached blindly for the phone, careful to not disturb Harry. His fingers closed around the offending object, and he squinted at the screen through his gritty contacts. Ugh.

He opened the messages to find the first one from Niall, a group text.

_Nialler to You, Haz, Zaynnnn, and Fking Liam:_

_Heyyy yo war room at 9:30 bros!!!_

Louis sighed and let his head thump against his pillow in the dark. Too early.

The next message was from Liam.

_Fking Liam: yeh lads come over pls we hvae to plann! Have yuo checked twitter_

Louis rolled his eyes. Because of course Liam was already on the strategical shit. At 3 a.m. Sometimes Louis suspected Liam actually was Batman, and spent his free time perched on rooftops scrolling through his twitter feed waiting for the Bat Signal.

The next was Zayn:

_Zaynnnn: fuck you all_

Louis snorted. Just then, another message came in.

 _Fking Liam: zayn_  :( _y u haet mee? Your pretty_

Okay. A terrible-spelling Batman.

But Zayn either ignored it or most likely, had promptly gone back to sleep. Louis typed out a quick _10:00 u wanker_ and set his alarm for 9:00. He moved to set his phone back down when another text dinged.

_Fking Liam: tell haryr to make pancakes_

Louis snorted and set his phone aside, text unanswered.

Fucking Liam.

*

The next time Louis was awakened it was to warm lips brushing his bare shoulder in the soft morning light. He groaned feebly and curled up in a ball in protest. He nuzzled into Harry’s warm chest and tried to go back to sleep.

A few moments later, he felt Harry’s hand carding through his hair and stroking up and down his back. Louis purred happily and snuggled closer. Harry smiled softly and whispered,

“Lou? Babe.”

Louis mumbled an _uh uh_ and squeezed his eyes closed. Harry grinned.

“Louuu,” he rasped. “’S morning, sunshine.”

Louis pretended he was asleep, he thought quite convincingly. Harry laughed tiredly.

“You don’t snore, Lou. I know you’re awake.”

Louis grinned but refused to open his eyes, and Harry hummed thoughtfully. He continued to rub his hand up and down Louis’ back, and Louis sighed. One day they were going to retire and live the rest of their lives in bed. (Harry had been watching a Beatles documentary at midnight last week when he'd seen John and Yoko invented a "Bed-In" for peace protesting the war, and even conducted interviews in their bedroom. Needless to say, Harry was sold. _"We could have snacks, Lou. Order takeaway. We'd never have to leave.")_

“Lou.” Harry whispered, tickling the baby hairs in front of Louis’ ears.

Louis grinned sleepily and tried to nudge Harry’s hand away.

“Hey, wanna hear a joke?” Harry asked with a grin.

“Haz,” Louis mumbled, covering his ears. Harry went on, undaunted.

“Why was the baby strawberry crying?”

“Harry, I swear to god,” came Louis’ voice, muffled against Harry’s chest.

“...Because his mum and dad were in a jam!”

Louis sighed in response, and Harry waited a beat in giddy silence. Louis could practically _see_ Harry holding his breath from where he was snugged against his chest.

Then Harry started to giggle. Honest-to-god _giggle_ , and Louis groaned and reached back blindly for a pillow to smack him with. When he made contact with Harry's head, Harry began to laugh in earnest. His chest rumbled with laughter under Louis’ head.

Louis clutched the pillow to his face, praying for death to take him—he was legitimately afraid Harry’s jokes would kill him one day.

 _“In a jam,”_ he heard Harry snicker softly to himself before the younger man sighed contentedly.

Louis kept his fond smile under the pillow, refusing to give Harry the satisfaction. The menace didn't need anyone else enabling his terrible jokes.

Finally Louis reined in the fond enough to remove the pillow and look at Harry. Harry's eyes were a clear green in the morning light, and he flashed a sheepish smile before Louis lunged to tickle his sides in retaliation. Harry shrieked and giggled, twitching away from Louis’ clever fingers.

“Louuu,” he protested, squirming on the bed.

Louis snorted. “Uh oh, Harold, it looks like you’re in a _jam_.” He laughed at his own joke.

“Aah!” Harry cried, flopping over top of Louis like a giant starfish, arms and legs pinning the smaller man. He promptly went completely limp and nuzzled his face into Louis’ neck.

Louis gasped for breath under the weight and wiggled to get comfortable.

“’S better,” Harry mumbled contentedly while Louis wrapped his arms around him.

“That’s your way of getting on top of me. Cheers,” Louis deadpanned.

“Heyyyy,” Harry grumbled. His warm breath fanned out across Louis’ neck and collarbones as he settled his weight more comfortably on Louis.

They lay like that for a few peaceful moments, still except for the motion of Louis’ hand carefully untangling Harry’s soft curls. The morning sun was slanting through their curtains onto the hardwood floors.

“Liamwanssmetomakepancakes,” Harry mumbled into Louis’ neck drowsily.

“Fucking Liam,” Louis mused softly staring up at the ceiling, and they shared a quiet laugh.

“One day he’s going to babysit our kids and we’ll make them demand pancakes for breakfast. Every morning,” Louis vowed. “With whipped cream smileys and everything.”

Harry chuckled. “And bananas,” he added with a smile. “Our kids are going to understand the value of healthy food, Lou.”

“I don’t know what you’re implying, Harold,” he said loftily.

“You ate Ben & Jerry’s for breakfast last week,” Harry groaned.

“Mmm, Half-Baked,” Louis moaned obscenely. The sound went straight to Harry’s cock. “And I exercised later that day, remember?”

“You played FIFA, Lou,” Harry challenged, shifting slightly to rearrange himself. He eyed the bedside clock and saw it was already 8:00. They still had to shower, make pancakes, and get to Liam’s flat.

“I did yoga last night!” Louis shot back petulantly.

“Yes…that did turn rather. Athletic,” Harry grinned at the memory.

“Jesus!” Louis sighed exasperatedly. He rolled them over so he was now straddling Harry. “What I’m hearing is, I need to get more exercise.” he said. The sheets pooled around his waist, baring ink-covered, golden skin. His long hair was sleep-rumpled and his jawline covered in stubble, and Harry’s cock twitched in interest against Louis’ thigh.

Louis’ eyebrows shot up at the discovery, and then he narrowed his eyes.

“Rude.”

Harry grinned unapologetically and rolled his hips up into Louis'. He gently massaged Louis' hips, easing the sheet down to free his hard cock. Louis' breath hitched when Harry wrapped one large hand around both of them and gave one teasing stroke.

"We're going to be late to Liam's-- _ah!_ \--war council," Louis protested weakly, and Harry bit his lip. His eyes twinkled with mischief, dimples popping out when he smiled.

"Tell him we were out of milk."

*

At 10:27 Harry and Louis strolled hand-in-hand through Liam’s flat towards the voices coming from Liam’s war room (it was a freaking gym, Louis grumbled internally), freshly showered and bearing pancakes.

Harry knocked on the doorframe and stepped inside to find Liam and Niall already there. Zayn was nowhere in sight.

Liam looked up eagerly, and Niall took one look at their wet hair and hickeys and gave them a shit-eating grin. He held a palm out to Liam without missing a beat.

“Pay up, Payno.”

Liam frowned disapprovingly at them and side-eyed Niall before reaching into his jeans pocket. He was already fully dressed, but had reined it in to a Marvel t shirt and comfortable jeans, so. Progress. He’d come a long way from the kid who once insisted they all iron their jeans at judges’ houses.

“I had them at 10:45,” Niall reminded. “I’m the closest, I win.”

Harry rolled his eyes and brought the Tupperware container containing fresh pancakes to the table.

“You bet on how late we’d be, Liam?!” Louis scoffed.

“I had you at 11:00,” he said apologetically, handing over a slightly-wrinkled banknote to Niall.

The sliding glass door to the balcony opened and Zayn slunk in groggily trailing a familiar mix of cigarette smoke and Bvlgari cologne, looking soft in sweats and a borrowed hoodie of Liam’s. He nodded blearily to Harry and Louis and made a beeline for the coffee on the table.

“Zayn had you as no-show,” Niall quipped. Zayn ruffled the blonde’s hair wordlessly and sat down beside him, inhaling the scent of his coffee happily.

Harry looked around and had to hand it to Liam. He had every work-out machine and tool available, all neatly maintained. His collection of free weights was lined up by size and weight in the corner next to a rolled-up yoga mat. Heh, yoga.

He caught Louis’ eye where he was distributing plates to everyone and nodded to the yoga mat, grinning lasciviously. Louis gave him a warning glare and shook his head.

Liam looked up with a polite smile. “Oh, are you taking up yoga, Louis?”

Harry choked on a laugh and Louis flipped Harry a rude hand gesture before turning to Liam.

“No fucking way.”

Liam’s eyes flickered from Louis to Harry, who didn’t bother hiding his grin, and then smiled. Honestly, who knew with those two anymore.

“…but I believe Harry’s in the market for some new yoga pants,” he smirked.

Harry froze where he was sliding pancakes onto each of their plates. _Did he remember to put the yoga pants in the washer? Surely Louis didn’t chuck them in the bin_ …he chanced a look at Louis through his lashes to find he was already watching him. Louis’ expression softened and he smiled, shaking his head slightly as if he knew what Harry was thinking.

 _Washer_ , he mouthed to Harry with a secret smile, and then busied himself cutting his pancakes daintily. Harry felt butterflies in his stomach at how utterly domestic they were. Maybe it wasn't normal for couples in their early twenties to want to commit like they did, but then Harry and Louis weren't normal twenty-somethings. None of them were, really.

Across the table, Niall was piling a stack of pancakes on his own plate.

“Thanks, Harry—looks amazin,” he grinned.

“Cheers, mate,” Harry said, lifting a bottle of water in salute. Zayn took a few pancakes and started scrolling through Niall’s twitter, still open on his phone.

“It’s just that I saw something about it on twitter,” Liam pondered, returning to the original subject. “Yoga? Louis taking a yoga class with Harry?”

Harry spit his water in surprise and hurriedly tried to mop it up while Louis burst out laughing.

“Is that a euphemism?” Zayn asked disinterestedly, taking a sip of coffee.

“Jesus,” Louis sighed, burying his face in his hands.

“Um,” Harry began eloquently. "No? I mean..."

"Is this a sex thing? Are we talkin about sex?" Niall asked, scooping four more pancakes on his plate.

Louis waggled his eyebrows and leered suggestively across the table, and Niall grinned.

"Wey hey, Tommo, whatever floats your boat."

Louis shrugged mischievously.

“Whatever tickles your pickle.”

Niall’s face lit up at the challenge.

“Whatever bakes your potato.”

Liam chuckled and nudged Zayn’s plate closer to the man, who rolled his eyes fondly but nevertheless began to eat.

Louis laughed, pointing his fork at Niall. “Whatever butters your biscuit.”

“Whatever bastes your—

 _“Niall.”_ Harry pleaded. “Please, he googles these; he can go all day.”

Louis whirled on Harry. “You wanker! That was one time,” he hissed while Niall cackled in the background.

Harry smirked. “Maybe you should clear your browser history, Lou.”

Louis flushed bright red and narrowed his eyes. “Maybe you should stay off my iPad, _Harold_.”

“I’m not the one who googled “how to wear—

“OKAY! _Ok_ ,” Louis tried to drown him out to the amusement of everyone else. Harry winked at Niall. He curled an arm around Louis’ compact frame and placed a soothing kiss on his temple. Louis settled into his side with a huff. They settled into a comfortable silence, eating and drinking at Liam’s table. Harry snuck a bite off Louis’ plate and leaned against him contentedly.

“Whatever peels your banana,” Louis grumbled petulantly, and everyone laughed. Satisfied, Louis cuddled further into Harry's side and brushed a kiss across his jaw.

“Speaking of which…” Harry said apologetically, biting his lip. Louis rubbed his thigh reassuringly under the table. "About last night."

Zayn looked up and smirked, a definite twinkle in his now-awake brown eyes.

"Such an idiot," he teased fondly.

Harry blushed and lowered his eyes shyly.

"...it was perfect, bro." Harry met his eyes uncertainly only to see Zayn smiling brightly. Zayn winked fondly at Louis before returning to Niall's phone.

"Thanks," Harry replied, still waiting on the rest of the lads to weigh in.

"Fuckin hilarious," Niall nodded in agreement, flashing Harry a big grin.

"Niall did almost piss himself, so," Liam teased, and the boys laughed.

“So how much trouble are we in?” Niall asked around a mouthful of pancakes. Liam frowned at his deplorable manners and carefully cut a bite from his own plate.

Zayn was scrolling through twitter contemplatively.

"Stephen from management, um, told me off," Harry mumbled, nervously pulling on a curl.

"Is it Stephen? I think I called him Sam," Liam mused.

"What'd he say to you?" Niall asked Louis.

"Oh, same," Louis said casually, inspecting his nails. He looked up to see four worried sets of eyes on him. Louis let the seriousness sink in for a moment. "As far as ticket sales, record sales, whatever, it's not good."

Liam sighed and looked down at his plate thoughtfully.

"Tell them what he said," Harry urged quietly.

Louis sighed and tried to smile. "That as far as _our_ plan, to come out one day...it's going to set us back," he said, carefully lacing his smaller fingers with Harry's long ones. He laughed bitterly. "That it's immature and shows we're not ready to be a couple and shit."

There was silence around the table as the lads digested Louis' words. Harry squeezed his hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb.

"That's shit," Liam declared. "You--you guys were so close--

"I know," Louis smiled sadly down at his empty plate.

"Things were finally starting to come together--

"I _know,_ " Louis cut him off.

"Fuck," Niall frowned, pushing his empty plate away and propping his elbows on the table. Liam pointedly refrained from commenting and pursed his lips.

"What did the fans say?" Harry asked Liam. Liam nodded and sat up straighter, in full business mode.

 _Batman_ , Louis thought amusedly.

"Mostly positive last night and up until about six," Liam reported. "Fans were pumped about your joke and our antics onstage."

"What about now?" Louis wondered aloud, now that the internet had had proper time to discuss it.

“Well, everybody’s talkin about your banana, Harry,” Zayn commented as he read their twitter mentions. "And...cheerleader Niall? _Rocking the old-school Gwen Stefani_ ," he read slowly from the screen. Zayn grinned and elbowed Niall, who shrugged modestly, like he regularly burst out into 2000s pop anthems--and honestly, Louis thought, maybe he did. Niall was an enigma stuffed with sunshine wrapped in Parma ham with a side of homemade mash, if you will. He had once passed by Niall's bunk on the tour bus and seen the boy munching happily on ketchup-flavored crisps while _America's Next Top Model_ played on his laptop. He'd grinned slyly at Louis and said, "Tyra Banks is the craic, bro. She's fuckin fierce." So, yeah.

"And the, uh, Larry stuff?" Louis asked.

Zayn checked the Larry Stylinson tag on twitter, and found a ton more mentions than in the past week. "Mostly positive, like Liam said," he mused. Louis squeezed Harry's hand and shot him a subdued smile.

"People just want you to be happy," Liam shrugged easily. "And so do we."

Louis and Harry exchanged glances, hopeful green eyes meeting determined blue. Their silent conversation ended with Louis' suggesting,

"Well, we agreed that it's in our best interest--all of us--if we kept contract during the tour--

"Those fuckers," Niall grumbled, and Zayn ruffled his hair soothingly.

"But after last night, it was just so..."

"Awesome," Niall insisted.

"Wicked," Zayn mumbled, and Liam hummed his agreement with a soft smile.

"Fun," Harry whispered, fidgeting with Louis' fingers anxiously.

"I missed it," Louis confessed, feeling a lump in his throat.

"So we thought," Harry continued for him, and Louis smiled gratefully, "that we could give them more of that onstage. Give them _something_ fun."

"And let the fans and shippers do the rest," Louis said, clearing his throat. "Let them run with it."

"And then after the tour, if we're still employed," Liam said, piecing it all together, "we can break contract."

"It won't be easy," Harry admitted, glancing at Louis beside him.

Niall shrugged. "But it's worth it," he replied, looking around the table. "Innit?"

Harry held his breath.

"Yes," Zayn said, handing off Niall's phone decisively. Harry bit back a smile.

"100 percent," Liam nodded once.

"Fuckin course!" Niall exclaimed, and Harry's smile grew. He turned to Louis, who was watching him with a fond smile.

"Babe?" Louis asked, lips quirked in a smile that promised all kinds of trouble, yes, but also a future.

"Yes," Harry breathed, his smile dazzling. Louis pressed a kiss to the back of Harry's hand where they were still connected, then faced the others.

"They're going to give us hell on Monday," he warned.

"Then let's give 'em somethin to talk about," Zayn grinned slyly.

"Alright, bring it in," Harry grinned, rising from his chair. Louis groaned but stood. Zayn, Niall and Liam joined them beside the table. Liam and Harry wrapped long arms around them, squeezing them into a sleepy but giddy hug.

"Are we doing this?" Liam asked, leaning his head against Louis'.

"...guess so," Louis replied, smiling wryly up at him. Liam paused thoughtfully, then nodded decisively.

"Ok."

The hug broke up, but they remained standing close while Liam retrieved his laptop from the weight bench across the room. He jogged back to the table and took a seat. Niall shrugged as they all watched Liam boot up his computer and begin typing. After a moment, he looked up with a sheepish smile.

"Ok, let's do this," he repeated. The lads crowded around him at the table only to find a new window open with tumblr. Zayn snorted.

"Who's _bigdaddypayne_?" Niall asked, squinting at the screen.

Liam blushed but stared resolutely at the screen.

"Not important."

"Liam, mate...do you have a tumblr?" Louis asked incredulously. Liam huffed and began typing.

"New text post!" Niall called over his shoulder to Harry and Zayn.

"You have 6,023 followers?!" Harry exclaimed, clearly impressed, while Liam typed.

"Is that your bicep, bro?" Niall asked curiously, gesturing to Liam's icon picture. Zayn snickered behind them.

" _This...tour...is...bananas!"_ Niall read as the words appeared onscreen. " _B-A-N-A-N-A-S!"_ He began to cackle in laughter.

 _"Let's show them the love tonight! xx"_ Liam added, then clicked "Post."

The other four crowded around as the post got 3 notes instantly. Liam refreshed the page, and they watched in excitement as _niam69_ reblogged the post. And then 15 more people did.

"I'm so getting one of these," Niall vowed, staring in awe at the computer screen. Harry and Louis exchanged a smile and linked their fingers together again.

In the space of fifteen minutes, Liam's post had gotten 449 notes, and he closed the page with a satisfied nod. "Good start," he said, not quite meeting anyone's eye.

"Wait, did that say you're following a blog called _larryforeverstrong_?" Zayn asked. Liam turned even redder, if possible.

"Aww, Liam, you ship us!" Harry cooed happily, clasping his and Louis' entwined hands under his chin and sporting some major heart eyes. "Thank you!"

Harry met Louis' eyes and inclined his head to Liam, who was at a loss for words. They crowded in close, wrapping him in a hug, and Liam rolled his eyes in faux-exasperation. His answering smile was pure fondness, however. Niall and Zayn joined them, hugging Liam. "We love you, Li!" someone said in a muffled voice. There was the distinct sound of a loud kiss smacked to a cheek, and Liam giggled.

"Enough!"

"You love us," Louis sighed happily as he patted Liam's shoulder.

"I do."

Now it was just up to the fans, Harry thought, locking hopeful eyes with Louis.

**

7 June, Wembley Stadium

That night as Harry buttoned up his shirt in the same changing room at Wembley, he had a newfound sense of excitement. He had mostly stayed off twitter and the internet that day, only stopping to tweet _"Je voudrais."_ It could mean anything, he'd reasoned, like a lot of his ambiguous tweets. (In this instance, it had referred to Harry wanting a full English breakfast followed by part two of the yoga lesson, but they had a sound check to get to, and the pants were still in the dryer.)

He glanced over to where Louis was examining his concert outfit in the mirror and smiled. It had been a busy afternoon, but Harry had still had time to call his assistant Jessica and place an order. There was no rush, as they would be touring and away from London for the next month. Louis caught him staring in the mirror and rolled his eyes. He smoothed down his black t shirt and turned briefly to look at the back. Of course he looked beautiful, but Louis frowned critically. Harry grabbed his printed headscarf and walked up to Louis, hooking his chin over the smaller man's shoulder.

"You're beautiful," he said, placing a sweet kiss on Louis' cheek. Louis' anxious expression softened into a private smile.

"Hey babe." He melted back into Harry, who curled his arms around him. "You ready for me to tie that?" He asked, gesturing to the silk scarf. Harry nodded and stepped back.

"Two minutes," came the tech's warning, and Harry bent down for Louis to fix his hair. He watched Louis deftly roll it into a strip, then wrap it around Harry's curls.

"You know Lou can do this, too," Louis mock-scolded. Harry grinned unrepentantly.

"You do it better," he replied.

"Damn right I do," Louis challenged softly. He tied the scarf and then arranged some of Harry's hair around it artfully. He stepped back and gave Harry a heated stare. "And don't forget it."

Harry smirked and backed Louis against the wall-mounted mirror. The sensation of the cold glass on Louis' bare arms made him shiver, but not as much as the look Harry was giving him. He carefully caged Louis in with his bigger body, placing his hands beside Louis' head. He leaned in close, green eyes bright with promise.

"I like the way you tie it," he murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Louis' lips. The touch was gentle, but full of heat. Harry nosed over the shell of Louis' ear and whispered, just as the tech returned to lead them to the stage,

"So nice and tight."

Louis huffed out a shaky breath and swallowed audibly. He willed his erection to go down and cupped a little hand over Harry's cock through his jeans in return. He squeezed lightly and stepped to the side, watching Harry tense up. His jaw locked and he closed his eyes for a moment, clearly having the same reaction as Louis did. When he opened his eyes, the look he gave Louis was absolutely wicked.

"You're going to pay for that, Lou." And _yes, please, dear God, punish me_ , Louis thought to himself, stepping out of Harry's reach.

"Don't forget your banana, Haz," he said innocently, eyes flickering down to Harry's half-hard cock before turning to follow the others out the door.

And yes, he was going to wreck Louis later. Now, though, he thought, grabbing a banana off the side table, it was time to get to work.

Halfway through the show, when a giant inflatable banana landed onstage, Harry didn't hesitate. He frolicked around, clumsily straddling the banana, and it occurred to him (not for the first time) this was why people thought Louis topped. Liam pinched Louis' nipples and ran away, giggling like Harry hadn't seen in who knows how long.

Their last night in London, Harry did some truly horrific dance moves. Louis led them in coordinated hip thrusts. Harry thanked management for getting them where they were today--"Actually, forget about them, it's about YOU!" he cheered the crowd. Niall's hip thrust game was strong.

In Sweden, Harry got the audience to say "I like meatballs," and shared a quick grin with Louis before moving on to the next song. He looked out across the sea of faces and saw, along with the usual "Marry Me Harry!" and the popular-as-of-late "Zouis lights up that blunt like nobody else!" bananas. Banana posters, t shirts, and tons of yellow clothing. There were headscarves and hats and glow sticks, all yellow. Bananas became synonymous with the tour.

In Milan, someone chucked a banana onstage right at Louis' feet. He nonchalantly picked it up and examined it before tossing it to a grinning Harry.

"I believe you know what to do with this, Harry," he said casually and sauntered away, but it was enough--the crowd went ballistic. They had gotten a stern talking-to from Stephen/Sam about that one, and management had threatened to fly Eleanor out for the Spain leg of the tour. Liam, aka _bigdaddypayne_ leaked it on tumblr, Zayn tweeted a simple :( and all Niall had to do after that was tweet "This shit is bananas!" for the internet to explode.

In Dusseldorf, Harry substituted the line in "Midnight Memories" to "Big house party with a crowded kitchen/ people talk shit, but they're just bitchin," and Niall had laughed so hard he missed the chorus. Half the ideas for lyric changes came from Liam browsing his tumblr, which now sported nearly 9,000 followers. One of them was _ziallisthecraic93,_ a newcomer whose arrival coincided with Niall spending even more time on his phone than usual, if that was possible. They were taking bets to see how long it took Liam to figure out who he was reblogging every day.

By the time fans had gotten #adioselounor trending on twitter, management had to admit that not only did ticket sales _not_ go down, they actually increased. Album sales were up, and they agreed to put the next One Direction fragrance project on hold indefinitely, which _thank fuck_. If Louis had to sit through another meeting debating whether bergamot was too "mature" for their audience, he was going to crack. It was a far cry from where Harry and Louis--and all the band--had wanted to be, but it was a start.

*

On a break in mid-July before the North American leg of the tour, Louis and Harry sat on their oversized couch watching TV. Louis was playing his latest game on his phone with his feet propped in Harry's lap while Harry scribbled in his battered journal. It was practically falling apart, and Louis had secretly picked out a new one for Christmas. Harry was mumbling under his breath, reading the lyrics he'd been working on for the past couple weeks, when the package arrived.

Louis frowned. They hadn't ordered anything recently. Harry's Christmas gifts weren't set to arrive for months. 

Harry gingerly lifted Louis' ankles and stood before dropping them onto the couch. He bit his lip as he took in the plain white box. He cast a furtive glance over his shoulder as he carried it to the kitchen island and rummaged around for scissors to open it. When he sliced open the packing tape, Louis looked up briefly before returning to his game. Fucking Drop7 or whatever it was Niall had downloaded for him. He was going to smash his phone in frustration.

Harry lifted out the layers of pink tissue paper and found the item nestled inside the box. He had guessed at Louis' size based on last time, and hoped it fit. Harry grinned excitedly when he unfolded it, taking a moment to bask in his own genius.

Harry carefully refolded it and concealed it behind his back as he strolled back to the couch. Louis didn't see his manic grin, caught up in an impressive string of curses aimed at his phone.

Harry cleared his throat. "Lou?"

"Mmm?" Louis asked distractedly, squinting at the screen in concentration.

"Have I told you how much I love you today?"

Louis' head snapped up, instantly suspicious. His phone chirped a warning as he missed a play.

"What." he said cautiously.

Harry bit back a grin and nodded seriously. "Because I do love you. Very much."

Louis zeroed in on what Harry was hiding behind his back and craned his neck to see. Harry turned smoothly, keeping it concealed. He gave Louis a hopeful smile that usually went along with Harry convincing him to do something absolutely ludicrous.

Harry wordlessly revealed the item, letting it unfold before Louis' eyes.

"Oh, fuck no," Louis said automatically. He thought Harry had forgotten about, or at least moved on from this terrible milestone in Louis' life.

Clearly not.

Because here he stood with tiny black shorts.

 _Yoga shorts_. Fuck Louis' life.

Harry pouted, eyes sparkling hopefully.

"Pleeaasseee, Lou," he said sweetly, swaying from side to side like a child.

"Absolutely not."

"Louisssss," he crooned.

"No."

"Boobear?"

"I'd literally rather gauge my eyes out with rusty knives," Louis deadpanned. He crossed his arms in challenge.

Undaunted, Harry sank to his knees in front of Louis, batting his eyelashes. He clutched the stupid shorts to his chest like a kid in a toy store.

"Louis, you'll look so pretty in them, and I can teach you more yoga," he wheedled, crawling closer on his knees.

Louis huffed.

"Except for cow pose...which we will never do again."

"I'm pretty all the time," Louis retorted crossly.

Harry set the shorts on the couch and nuzzled into Louis' thighs. "Yes, you are." He propped his chin on Louis' knee and looked up with pleading green eyes. "The prettiest I've ever seen," he blinked honestly, and fuck. Louis felt his cheeks flush and butterflies in his stomach.

"What were you planning to do if I said no?" Louis replied noncommittally, already guessing the answer.

"Wear them myself," Harry admitted with a dimpled grin.

"You're a fucking menace, Harry, I swear to God."

Harry's answering smile was blinding.

Fuck fuck fuck, Louis was fucked.

"Look, they have an animal print waistband," Harry said hopefully, sensing victory. He smoothed the shorts across Louis' lap.

Louis had to admit they were kind of cute. He wouldn't be wearing them for five minutes anyway, before Harry was on him. Louis shrugged coolly.

"What's in it for me?" he asked.

Harry's eyes flashed with promise. "Gonna get you in downward facing dog," he said, tossing the shorts aside, large hands coming to massage Louis' thighs. "Peel them down just enough," he rasped, nipping Louis' thigh with his teeth, wide eyes never leaving his. "And eat you out until you beg for it," he concluded, palming over Louis' cock in his joggers.

Louis sucked in a breath and tried to concentrate. "That sounds, um," Harry stroked him skillfully over his pants, "somewhat fun," he said breathlessly.

Harry teased the head of Louis' cock, making him whine and arch into the touch.

"There's also ice cream in the freezer," Harry added, thumbing over Louis' now-hard cock.

"Have I told you how much I love you today?" Louis asked, squirming under Harry's hands. Because _ice-cream. Cock. Hands._ It was too much.

 Harry smiled wryly and straddled Louis' smaller body on the couch. He brushed a teasing kiss across Louis' lips and ground their hips together.

"Tell me again," he mumbled against Louis' mouth, carefully taking his bottom lip between his teeth and tugging gently.

And Jesus, Louis was so filled up with love and fondness and desire his voice shook a little.

"I love you. So much."

Harry's eyes were warm as he pulled back and smoothed his hands down Louis' soft t shirt. "Love you too," he whispered.

Louis' last coherent thought before Harry began undressing them was, not for the first time, how glad he was he met this endearing moron and never stopped fighting for love  despite all the obstacles. They had always been going one direction, all of them, since the beginning.

Together.

*

_End._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Come say hi on tumblr or leave a comment if you'd like :)  
> http://1diamondinthesun.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to faraday, who put up with my fangirling and obsession with Louis Tomlinson and fanfics when it knew no bounds. xx
> 
> I'm on tumblr. Come say hi! http://1diamondinthesun.tumblr.com/


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